


It Varies From Season to Season, Kid

by Chash



Series: Why You'd Want to Live Here [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hollywood, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:10:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9575222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Bellamy stumbled into acting at eighteen, and he likes it well enough to keep going, but he doesn't love it or anything. It's a good way for him to make a living, and he knows he's very lucky.When he gets the idea for his own show, though--that'swhen he realizes what he really wants to do. And that's when he calls Clarke Griffin.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [museumofflight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/museumofflight/gifts).



> Written for the Fandom Trumps Hate auction! Erin wanted a fic involving The Queen's Thief series somehow, and I went with a Hollywood AU because who I am as a person. I got basically all my information about how the pitch-to-series process works from [this article](http://io9.gizmodo.com/why-do-so-many-tv-shows-get-greenlit-but-then-never-1681405688) and also took a bunch of liberties with it, because I don't care that much, so don't expect stunning accuracy here.
> 
> Please note: I kept this as spoiler-free as I could for that series, but there's some vague allusions. It's a great series and I highly recommend reading it totally unspoiled if you can, so go find them and come back. It's cool, I'll wait.

Bellamy got started in Hollywood largely by accident; he was always looking for ways to make money, so growing up in LA, he checked casting calls, went to open auditions, and somehow started getting cast. Acting was never exactly a great passion of his, not his calling, but it was one of the ways he could get some cash for his family, and usually he could take a little extra food from craft services for his sister and no one minded. It was a pretty good job, especially for a kid, but he didn't really think it would go beyond background characters. Maybe he'd get a SAG card, if he was lucky.

He was eighteen when he got cast in a Marauders prequel to the Harry Potter books, which managed to run for five years thanks to creative pacing and slight timeline alterations, and by the time he was done with that, he was basically set for life. Not _rich_ for life, but with budgeting and investing, he could live off those profits alone and do well.

Which didn't mean he _stopped_ being an actor, but coming off the role, he could basically do whatever he wanted, so he could be a little more selective and find his own passion projects.

He's thirty-three when he realizes that his real passion project might not involve acting, after all.

Like acting, it's nothing he's actually planning; he's just hanging out on a Sunday morning, reading _The Queen of Attolia_ again, and the thought crosses his mind that he wishes there was a movie of it.

The thought is rapidly followed by another thought, which is that it would really do better as a TV series, with one season per book, and really digging into the world and the characters. It could be really _cool_ as a series, if you did it right.

He's got an outline sketched out for a thirteen-episode season before he's quite realized what he's doing, and when he does notice, he blinks, stares, and then thinks about it. Really thinks about it.

He's not that famous. Not a giant star or anything. But he's got a decent following left over from the days of the Marauders show, and he's pretty well known in the TV community. He's a solid, dependable performer who does his job well.

But that's all _acting_. He's never done any writing or behind-the-scenes stuff. He hasn't even directed or produced, even though that's fairly common in the TV business. It never excited him that much. But now that he thinks about it, he hasn't seen a role that really makes him excited for a while either. Not like just thinking about this adaptation makes him.

He could do it, right? He really could. All he needs is a little guidance.

Bellamy has plenty of industry contacts, and he scrolls through his phone slowly, thinking about who might be good to talk through the idea with, and stops, abruptly, when he hits Clarke Griffin.

He and Clarke are friendly without exactly being _friends_. She played Alice Longbottom on the Marauders show, which everyone treated as a huge get because on a show of mostly unknown teenage actors, she was _famous_. Her mother was an actress and her father was a huge name in computers, and it was her first big role. And it wasn't even _big_.

At first, Bellamy couldn't help resenting her, because it was _his_ show, his and Anne's, and Clarke was front and center in all the promotion, her role expanded from what he thought made sense. But as the show gained popularity in its own right, the Clarke stuff faded into the background, and Alice was a compelling character in her own right whom the show handled well. Clarke didn't seem to mind the shift, was always professional and happy with her place in the show, and they got along pretty well.

They still see each other, from time to time, at parties and events, but she's shifted from acting into producing. She offered him a role last year which he ended up being unable to take because of previous commitments, but it had been a good part, and he'd been disappointed he had to say no to it. And every project of hers he hears about always sounds really cool. She's got good taste.

He goes all the way to the end of the list, just to make sure there isn't someone else who seems _better_ , but his brain is fairly stuck on Clarke. She's smart and capable and grew up in Hollywood, and she's done enough work behind-the-scenes that he thinks she should be able to talk him through the whole process.

Most of all, she just feels like the right choice. She'll be honest and uncondescending and helpful. He knows that without a doubt.

 **Me** : Hey, what's your schedule look like this week?  
This is Bellamy, in case you don't have my number anymore

 **Clarke** : My schedule is always a nightmare  
Tell me what you want and I'll tell you when I can make it work

 **Me** : I think I want to write a TV show  
But I don't know what my steps are for that  
I need a rundown of the process from your side

There's a pause, and then his phone starts ringing, the display lighting up with a picture of her from a party a few years back. He can't help a grin; he was _so_ right to get in touch with Clarke. 

"Hey, Clarke."

"Do you just want to start working as a writer, or do you want to write your own show?" 

"Write my own. Or adapt, I guess. There's this book series I like, I think it'd be cool to put it on TV. I might have written up some outlines."

"What's the series?" she asks.

" _The Queen's Thief_ ," he says, and checks the cover. "Megan Whalen Turner. Kind of historical fantasy, but light fantasy. No dragons or monsters or anything. Greco-Roman feel, with some divine interference from gods."

She hums. "And you want to write it?"

"I don't know. Show-run, probably. I'd be better at figuring out broad plot stuff than writing every script myself. But, like I said, I don't know much about the process from this side, so if you can give me some pointers--"

"Yeah, of course. Let me just check--" There's some noise on her end, and then she says, "It's Sunday today, right?"

"Wow. Your schedule really is a nightmare."

"Shut up," she says, without heat. "Wednesday or Thursday lunch? Like noon?"

By chance, Wednesday is his day off this week. "Yeah, I could do Wednesday lunch."

"Perfect. Want to go to Arcadia? For old time's sake?"

It's the pizza place where they used to go with the rest of the _Marauders_ cast. He hasn't been there in years. "Yeah, I could do that."

"Great. See you then. Bring whatever you've got for outlines or plans and we can take a look."

"You don't have to give me feedback on the whole idea," he protests. "Just a general kind of--"

"Why would I give you general advice when I could give you specific advice?" Her voice sounds kind of fondly amused, and he has to admit it's a good question. 

"I know you're busy," he says. "I don't want to eat up too much of your time."

A pause, and her voice has softened when she speaks again. "Trust me, I won't let you take advantage of me. But if your idea sucks, you want me to tell you, right?"

"Definitely."

"So bring your stuff so I can do my job, Bellamy."

"Well, when you put it like that." He smiles. "Thanks, Clarke."

"No problem. See you on Wednesday."

He does have other things to do--he's wrapping up the first season of an ensemble drama that didn't get renewed, and he wasn't that cut-up about it even before this--but he's usually got a decent amount of downtime on set, and the sight of him reading a book and making notes is pretty normal. 

So by the time Wednesday rolls around, he has the first draft of a pitch, and he's revised his outline for the first season, just to prove he knows where things are going. He's even got a rough summary of the pilot worked out.

It's really fun. He's really into this.

He gets to the restaurant at 11:54, but Clarke still beats him there. She's sitting in a booth when he arrives with a drink and an order of garlic bread, all of her attention on her phone. She's so settled she looks like she was born in the restaurant, and it's shockingly nice to see her. Clarke is one of those people he can go without seeing for months at a time, but every time he does, it's kind of a relief, this small, sharp burst of _oh good, you're still here_. The world's a less intimidating place, with Clarke Griffin in it.

He sits down across from her. "Hey."

"Female characters," she says, without looking up.

"Do you not understand greetings? Is this some weird Hollywood religion? Like Scientology, but you don't believe in manners?"

She looks up at him and grins. "Hi, Bellamy. Good to see you. I really like the books, but I assume you're thinking one season for each book? The first season is a little rough. It's kind of a dude fest until the end. Just because you get awesome girls as the series goes on, that doesn't really make up for early bad press. I think if there's a way to make Eddis one of the leads in the first season you'd have a lot stronger sell."

He pauses, opens and closes his mouth a couple times, and then says, "Did you read the entire series?"

"Like I said, specific help is better than generic help." She taps her pen against her chin. "I think it could be really cool, but it's gonna be kind of tricky. Let me see what you have."

It takes all of three minutes for him to stop feeling bad about taking up Clarke's time and get swept up in the conversation instead. He'd sort of wondered about the female character thing himself; Eddis and Attolia are some of his favorite female characters _ever_ , and he can't wait for them. But _they're coming_ doesn't feel like a great way to defend that, and it's not like he wouldn't love having Eddis around earlier.

"But I don't want to ruin the twist," he says.

"Twists are gonna be different on TV shows," Clarke points out. "Especially when it's based on an existing property. Not that these are _Game of Thrones_ popular, but there aren't going to be mysteries really driving the conversation in the same way there were with, like, _Westworld_. Because if you really care, the answers are out there. And also--I really _like_ the twists, but part of what makes it work in the first book is that you have no idea it's coming. So I think what you want to do for the audience is set it up so it doesn't seem like a twist is coming, if they don't know. And I think Eddis helps with that."

"Yeah?"

"The trick in the first book is that Gen tells the audience what story they're in, and they believe him. I think we should tell them they're in a different one." She smiles. "If you have two lead characters, you're expecting them to meet up eventually. And Gen and the Magus are trying to take control of--" He can see her trying to figure out how to phrase it and smiles himself.

"You can call the character Helen and the country Eddis," he says. "It's easier."

"Thanks," she says, giving him a grin. "I'm still new at this."

"Yeah, I've loved these books since I was a kid."

"It shows," she says. "And I can see why. They're good books. But I think, yeah." She taps her fingers. "The first book honestly basically pulls a fast one on you. Because it doesn't seem like Gen cares about the political stuff and he's going to be an unwilling participant dragged into this--"

"He kind of is."

"More in the later books, but whatever, semantics. If he's just helping the Magus with taking over Eddis, then we can set it up like he and Helen are heading for meeting and romance. That's what the audience expects with that kind of setup. And then you get less political exposition from the Magus and there's some more stakes for the audience. You know the woman these guys are trying to seize power from. And you can get--what's Attolia's name?"

"Irene."

"You can get Irene guest-starring in scenes with Helen, so when she becomes more of a focus in the second season--"

"If it gets a second season."

"If it gets a second season," Clarke grants. "But that's all the more reason to put Helen and Irene into more focus in the first season, because you're going to have a lot of characters who don't come back, so you want to hook the audience with the ones who are. And the network, honestly. They're not going to love how much the cast and focus shifts between books."

It makes a lot of sense, and he jots it down on his outline. "Yeah, that's a really good idea. I could work with that. Helen and Gen as dual protagonists, and then adding Irene as one in the second season."

"And Costis in the third," she says. "It's going to be tricky." She drums her fingers. "I think you should be in it."

He blinks. "Like, acting?"

"Yeah."

"I think I'm too old for Gen."

"I was thinking the Magus, actually. Then you're part of the first season hook and can shift to a smaller role if it gets picked up for a second."

"Huh." He'd always imagined himself as Gen when he was reading, but he is too old, even by Hollywood standards. And Clarke's right; he probably _could_ play the Magus. "You think that would help?"

"Absolutely." She smirks. "Having an actor as your showrunner isn't much of a draw unless you're acting too. But you could be the name adult to contrast all the no-name twenty-somethings you're going to hire for teenagers."

"It's the role I was born to play," he teases.

"You're too tall for Gen anyway. Sorry."

"First time in my life I've ever been too tall for a role." He exhales. "So, seriously, you think it's a good idea? You think I can do it?"

There's no hesitation at all. "Absolutely."

It's why he called Clarke; he trusts her. She'd tell him if she thought he couldn't. "Awesome. Thanks for your help." He drums his fingers on the table. "So, what are my next steps here? Not that I don't appreciate the help with the pitch, but I was actually hoping you'd tell me more about logistics. I need to find someone to sell it to, right?"

"Nope," she says, popping her _p_ decisively, but not meeting his eyes. "You're set. Your first step is getting a producer, and you've got one. I'm going to start thinking studios. I think it might be a good match for the CW, actually, if they don't mind that there's not that much romance. They do well with kind of odd-ball shows. Freeform or TNT too, maybe. I'll work on it."

"Clarke," he manages, when he recovers his voice. "You--seriously, that's not why I got in touch with you."

Now she does look at him, expression cool and eyebrows raised. "So, you don't want me to produce the show?"

"No, that's not--" He huffs. "Look, I really appreciate the offer, but I don't want you to feel--obligated, or whatever. If you just tell me what--"

"I don't feel obligated. Trust me," she adds, wry, "if I didn't want to be involved, I wouldn't offer. It's a cool project and I think it's got potential. I want in." She takes a second, worries her lip. "Plus, I just resigned because my last showrunner was a dick, so I'm looking for something less like that."

"I'm a dick," he points out.

"Yeah, but--a normal dick. Not a Hollywood dick. And I know I can work with you. So, yeah. If you want me, I want to be involved."

"Jesus, of course I want you," he says. "You know what you're doing, you like the project, and you want the same things I want. I'd be an idiot to say no."

"Which is why you were trying."

"I didn't want you to think--" His throat closes. "Look, I know how Hollywood works. I know what people do, okay? I wasn't looking for any favors. I wanted to talk to you because I trust your judgement, and I knew you'd tell me if I should give up on this. Which is why I'd love to have you on the project, but--"

"You must be the worst networker in the world," she says, but it sounds fond. "One more reason for me to sign on. I can do the people work, you can do the writing."

"I can network when I want," he grumbles. "I just didn't want to do it with _you_."

It's enough to finally make her lose her detached composure, and she looks away on her smile. "Well, you didn't. I liked the idea. I trust your judgement too." He hears her soft breath, and her smile is more composed when she meets his eye, but no less real. "So, let's do this."

"Yeah," he agrees. "Let's."

*

It wasn't as if Bellamy was upset with his life. He's too aware of his own luck and privilege to ever be anything but grateful for his success. If he doesn't always love acting, he still loves what it lets him do: he makes more than enough money to support himself, and people still want to pay him exorbitant appearance fees at cons, ten years later. It's a good job.

But he hasn't been engaged like this in years, maybe not ever. For the first time, his career feels like his calling, instead of just his occupation.

It's not great for his last few weeks of filming, but he's still a professional. He does his job and does it well, but there's always a part of him that's thinking about the next step, his new project, about what his life will look like if this works out.

It's probably good he's got Clarke around. Not only is she the one who can be doing things right now, in terms of selling the show, but she also reins him in, reminds him what it makes sense to be doing now and what he can't get too attached to, not before they've gotten picked up. It's very possible that the whole premise will get gutted. Which she's doing her best to avoid, but he knows she wants him to stay realistic. And he is. Honestly.

It's also just been really nice to talk to her regularly. Bellamy struggles with having _friends_ , the kind of long-term ones he understands non-actors have. All of his relationships feel temporary, based more on his current project than anything else, and up until this point, Clarke had only lasted because they've both been sort of in touch with other people from _Marauders_ , and they ended up seeing each other.

Now, they talk every day, and not just about the show. It starts that way, him texting an idea about the show, her responding, but once they've started, it's easy to just keep going. She'll complain about an obligation she has and doesn't want, he'll want to rant to someone about the documentary he's watching and the text window is already open, and then it becomes a conversation, and then it becomes _conversing_.

"Yeah, you just described how people make friends, Bell," Octavia says. They're grabbing lunch and she asked who he was texting, or he would have kept on not mentioning it. He hasn't told her about the show yet, doesn't want to jinx it, so he was planning to avoid it. But the phone keeps lighting up, unavoidable. Octavia's way too invested in his personal life.

"Yeah? No wonder I'm so shitty at it. You should have told me sooner."

His phone buzzes again, and he sees Clarke saying, _Oh god, Dante offered me a position on his new show. I had to break up with my boss with an "it's not you, it's me" speech. AFTER I ALREADY RESIGNED._

"Seriously, you seem really happy these days," Octavia adds, in slightly suspicious terms.

"Wow, I'm so sorry. Won't happen again."

She rolls her eyes. "That's not what I meant. Just--it's weird."

He pauses, hesitant for all he knows it's irrational. He can't actually jinx himself. "It's Clarke Griffin," he tells her. "From _Marauders_. We're working on a new show together. I'm going to write it."

"Oh."

She sounds disappointed, and he raises his eyebrows. "Seriously, you should not be the one in this conversation telling me how normal human beings react, because everything you're doing right now makes no sense."

"No, I'm happy for you! That's awesome. I just sort of figured you were finally getting a new significant other."

"Jesus, O. How many times do I have to tell you I'm not miserably single and dying of loneliness? Just because you're married doesn't mean I have to be."

She worries her lip. "I'm pregnant."

He has to laugh. "And you think that's gonna make me upset I'm not in a relationship? Come on, that's awesome. Assuming you're happy about it. I assume if you weren't happy about it, you wouldn't be pregnant anymore."

"One of the advantages of living in California," she agrees. "Yeah, we planned it." She looks down, and Bellamy lets his own smile burst as wide as he wants. Octavia's never known how to be good at family stuff, had trouble admitting she even wanted marriage or kids. But now she's settled, happy, and apparently has a kid on the way. It's everything he fought for, when he was growing up. A better life for his sister. A bright future.

"I'm really happy for you."

"And I'm really happy for you about your show thing," she says. "That's really cool."

"Sorry it's not a new romance," he says. "That must be really tough for you."

"That's just--how I always expected you to be happy. If one of us was going to be a Hollywood actor and the other was going to be married with a kid on the way, I would have guessed it would be the other way around."

That makes him smile. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry I'm way cooler and more successful than you are."

"You should be. So, what's the project?"

They chat for another hour about the show and his future niece or nephew, and he actually does feel better after, having told his sister, having outlined all the ways he really does think it's going to _work_. They have a solid concept, they're a good team, and Clarke is a professional.

And he's going to be an uncle. His life is _awesome_.

 **Me** : My sister is disappointed I have a new show instead of a new relationship

 **Clarke** : Are you only allowed to have one?  
Is that a rule now?  
No one told me

 **Me** : She's pregnant and I guess thinks that's going to make me realize I'm old and alone and unfulfilled

 **Clarke** : Is that how you put it when you talk to her?  
Because I can see how she'd think that

 **Me** : Shut up, I'm trying to be nice

 **Clarke** : I'm going to print that out and frame that as the most Bellamy Blake text ever

 **Me** : She's the first person I told about the show  
Other than you, obviously  
And I realized we're in really good shape and I think we've got a real chance of being picked up  
So that's awesome  
I'm really excited  
And I feel like I don't thank you enough for signing on

 **Clarke** : I feel like if you thanked me much more it would be weird  
But I'm excited too, yeah

 **Me** : She also says we're friends  
You and me, I mean, not me and her

 **Clarke** : Are we not?

 **Me** : I'm just shitty at friendship, I guess  
But I'm going to work on it

 **Clarke** : Cool  
I've got a meeting with a studio next Thursday  
You want to come?

 **Me** : Do you think I should?  
I trust your judgement on this one

 **Clarke** : You're a draw, so, yeah  
I think you should come  
You're passionate about the project, fairly popular with audiences, and well regarded in the industry  
If you're free, I'd like to have you along

 **Me** : Just send me the details  
Looking forward to it

 **Clarke** : Yeah, me too  
See you next week, friend

 **Me** : Shut up

*

Clarke sells the show to TNT, and for a few months, everything is basically a blur of writing and rewriting the pilot and Clarke arguing with the network and the studio and anyone who doesn't agree with their vision of the show, which is kind of a sight to behold. Bellamy doesn't _always_ get to witness it, but when he does, he's inevitably left staring in vague awe. It's not as if he's bad at pleading his own case, but he doesn't have the vocabulary Clarke does, doesn't have the background and precedent and clout that comes with actual production experience.

Basically every day, he thanks himself for his own foresight in getting in touch with her, because this is _happening_ , and it wouldn't be without her.

It's also an unbelievable amount of work. It's not just the writing; it's the hiring, the setup, the _casting_. He's really struggling with the casting.

"Can I go back in time and do it myself?" Bellamy asks. "Fuck, I didn't realize how hard this would be."

"We aged him up, so he's like seventeen or eighteen. You're--thirty-three, right? Two years older than me?"

"It wasn't a serious suggestion."

"We're looking at twenty to twenty-seven, so you're not _that_ far out of range. Definitely workable as a last resort." She sighs. "I'm more worried about Helen."

"You would be. She's your pet project. I'm surprised you don't want to play her. But I guess you're too beautiful."

It's a perfectly valid statement--Clarke is, after all, blonde-haired and blue-eyed, objectively gorgeous, and a far cry from the way Helen is described in the book--but as soon as it's out of his mouth, it feels weird. It's very different from her saying he's too old or too tall to play Gen.

"And your nose isn't broken," he adds, into the awkward silence.

"I'd want to play Irene," she says. She's not looking at him. "Not because of that, just--I relate to her more. I don't think I'd do as well with Helen. But I'd totally break my nose if I had to," she adds, with a small smirk playing around her lips.

He takes the subject change eagerly. "I'm glad you're going method." 

"Anything for art." She lets out a breath. "Okay, seriously, we just need to narrow the headshots down to auditions. It's not _hard_. You pick your top five, I'll pick my top five, and we'll compare audition all of them."

But he's not listening anymore; one of the pictures caught his eye. "Nathan Miller," he says.

"Hm?"

He hands her the file. "Nathan Miller. We did an indie together a few years ago. Twenty-five, amazing actor, definitely it."

A smile plays around her lips. "That's it? No other auditions? Nothing?"

"Not if I get to decide."

Clarke checks Miller's resume, worrying her lip, absent. "He's not big, no name recognition at all, really, but we're probably going to get that from the older actors. So that's you and probably--Pol? I was talking to Marcus Kane about that, by the way."

"I like how you call your stepdad by his full name. It makes you guys sound really tight."

"Maybe you know a lot of Marcuses. I don't want to assume."

"So many. I don't really know much about him."

"He's a big name, he'd be a get, and he'd just have to do the first season, so he'd agree to it. For cheap, because he loves me or something. And then second season we can find some new adults to be Helen and Irene's advisers. Maybe someone famous for the Mede." She taps the headshot. "You're sure about Miller?"

"He'd be perfect. He's got the range Gen needs, and he can do that thing where he's a total dick, but you like him anyway." He nods. "Definitely Miller. It's a tricky role, and he can do it."

"Come up with two other people to audition if the network doesn't go for him," she says, after a pause. "But I think I can sell it."

"I'm starting to think you can sell anything. How much time do you spend convincing the network to do what I want that I don't know about?"

"Better you don't know," she says, with a sweet smile.

"As always, I appreciate it." He pulls two other headshots. "We can try these guys if they don't go for Miller. But he's the best one for the job."

"Okay, cool. Here are my choices for Helen."

He has to smile. "When did you even find these? Do you sleep?"

"Some of us make up for having no personal life by working all the time, instead of reading and playing video games."

"Really? Do you need video game recommendations? Because I've got those."

"But then who would do all your work for you?"

He shakes his head and settles in to review the headshots, and Clarke starts texting people about casting Miller, and he doesn't really think of the conversation again for a few days. He does feel a little awkward about telling her she's beautiful, but--she _is_. He assumes she knew. And it made sense in context. It's not like he was hitting on her.

He's still a little relieved when she texts on Sunday, her nominal next day off.

 **Clarke** : You know what my issue with video games is?

 **Me** : Please don't tell me you think they cause school shootings  
I might not be able to work with you anymore

 **Clarke** : No  
It's that I don't actually know how to play them  
I never did when I was a kid  
So if you give me recommendations I won't actually know what to do with them

He looks at the text for a second, and then finds himself grinning, huge and stupid, and he's glad he's alone.

 **Me** : You know if you want to come play video games with me all you have to do is ask  
I don't need a complicated excuse  
I'm not doing anything right now  
Just come over

 **Clarke** : I'm very subtle  
On my way

He's actually weirdly nervous for her to show up, which is new. They do hang out, from time to time, but it's usually in a work context, and never at his place. He tidies up a little, checks his kitchen to see if he has any snacks, and then feels like an idiot, because--this is _Clarke_. They're friends. They've been friends for months.

As soon as he opens the door, she laughs at him. "You know, I didn't _have_ to come over."

"No, you're good. I just don't host very often. I realized my place is kind of a mess and I don't have any food. But then I realized you probably don't care, so--come on in."

"I definitely don't care," she agrees, but he can't help watching her as she looks around. Bellamy's decently wealthy, and could probably have a nicer place than he does, but he hasn't made up his mind about where he wants to _live_ yet, so he's reluctant about real estate.

But he likes his place well enough. He's ordinarily not insecure about it at all. 

"It's nice," says Clarke, smiling a little. "You can breathe."

"I'm breathing. What kind of video games are you interested in?"

"Easy ones that won't make me feel embarrassed?"

"Let's try Katamari. All you do is roll around."

"Roll around?"

"You'll see."

It becomes a tradition as easily as he and Clarke talking did. They don't have a lot of off days, but when they do, Clarke will come over. She's not great at video games, but she seems to like just hanging out, watching him play and doing her own work, which is mostly funny. Clarke might not be great at relaxing, but it seems to make her feel better to fail to relax while she's with him.

And it's not like he doesn't like it too. He's all too aware that it's not just the two of them anymore; they're going to start filming the pilot soon, and if they get picked up, there will be even more people, new writers, more actors, a whole crew. He's looking forward to it, can't wait for it, but--it's going to be so much.

So it's nice, to have a day for just the two of them. Just--

Well, whatever they are. He likes it. He wants to keep it.

"You should tell me if I should stop showing up," she remarks, a week before the pilot starts filming. She fell asleep while he was playing Overwatch, and it was one of the more adorable things he'd ever seen. "I can pass out on my own couch."

"No," he says. "Don't stop."

He thinks he should add something else, to make it less--whatever it was. But she smiles, and he smiles back, and yeah. This is exactly what he wants to keep. No matter what happens with the show, he's sure.

She's not going anywhere.

*

Bellamy has filmed a lot of pilots in his life. He's filmed pilots that get picked up and ones that never make it to the air, and it's actually one of his favorite things, even for crappy shows. The whole process is way too fast and stressful and it's like a very intense, weird, summer camp, but there's something so cool about seeing a script come together, and nothing like the possibility that this could be the one. Their big break.

And that was when he _wasn't_ the one who wrote the script. So, needless to say, he's fucking _giddy_ the first day on set.

"This is terrifying," says Miller. He's as Bellamy remembered, laconic and dry, always half-smirking, and Bellamy's really excited to work with him again. They're going to snarl at each other a lot and fight on camera, and it's going to be super fun. "I didn't know your mouth went that far up."

"I'm trying to turn that into an innuendo, but it's not working."

"Keep going. You'll get there."

Bellamy flips him off, and the kid playing Sophos smiles. Bellamy hasn't talked to Monty much yet, but he seems like a good guy, only twenty-two and a little quiet, but Clarke recommended him for the part, and as soon as Bellamy saw him audition, he knew he'd be perfect. 

They're going to make this pilot and then the studio will decide to not even air the show, and it's going to _break his heart_. He's not sure he'll be able to handle it if they don't make it at least through _The Queen of Attolia_. They haven't cast Irene yet, but he and Clarke have been talking about it, and he really wants to see her on screen.

Right on cue, he hears the snap of a camera, and then Clarke is sitting down next to him, checking the display to see how it turned out. "I like this one," she says, showing him too. "I feel like people probably like you giving the finger. It makes you seem real."

"I'm deferring to you because you're good at your job. Hey."

"Hey. You're going to need to look a lot more grim and serious on camera."

"I've got it, don't worry. Do you have last-minute network notes? What are you doing here?"

"It's the first day of filming, Bellamy. Did you really think I was going to miss it?" She snaps another picture of Miller and Monty. "Besides, I'm building hype with behind-the-scenes photos."

"We don't have hype yet."

"Because I haven't built it."

"That must be it."

"Which one of us is the producer and which one of us is the actor who needed my guidance to figure out how to get his show made?"

"When you put it like that," he teases, and doesn't realize it's maybe a little bit, well, _suggestive_ until he catches Miller and Monty smiling at each other.

Obviously, Bellamy's used to people reading into his relationships. He's not a big star, but during _Marauders_ , he was definitely the kind of actor whose fans really cared about his personal life. Octavia would sometimes send him long, disturbing online conversations where people analyzed what he and Anne were wearing to network events to prove that they were secretly together, so he learned early on to be careful about how he interacted with people, to not be too enthusiastic.

It's something he should maybe re-learn, with Clarke. Before they start appearing in public together.

But he can't imagine anyone really _cares_ anymore. He's thirty-three, right? That has to be basically dead, in fan terms. And he and Clarke aren't going to appear together in public much, probably. And they're friends. Friends joke around and smile and fall asleep on each other between takes. He's done it with people on every show he's ever been on. It's completely normal.

That logic gets him through filming the pilot, and it falls out of his mind in the haze of everything else that's going on, the nervousness of whether or not they're going to get picked up, if they'll really get to do things.

He's not thinking about it at all a few weeks later, when Clarke calls him on a and says, "We're picked up. You're ready for upfronts, right?"

"I'm in my boxers on my couch," he admits. "I have a bag of popcorn on my chest."

"Isn't that hot?" she asks, after a short pause. "Not, like, attractive, but--doesn't the oil get on your pecs? And not in a sexy, like, oiled up way. I'm imagining it burning you."

"As awesome as it is to listen to you digging yourself out of this conversational hole," he says, dry, "you still need to tell me what I'm actually doing for the upfronts. Do I need pants? When do I need pants? We're going to New York, right?"

"Yeah. You, me, Miller, Monroe, Marcus. Bring, like--dude-nice clothes."

"You act like that's a helpful instruction."

"Button-downs, minimally distressed jeans, plain t-shirts, one blazer. Do you need me to come pack for you?"

"Tempting, but then you'd see how non-sexy all this oil on my chest is." He drags himself off the couch. "When do I need to get there? Are you handling all the flights and hotels because you're a control freak, or do I need to figure that out myself?"

"I'm not a control freak, it's my job."

"You know you use that excuse all the time, right? Not everything can actually be your job."

"Have you ever actually read what a producer does? It's basically whatever the fuck I feel like."

"And what you feel like is being a control freak." He tugs on a shirt, mostly because his room is colder than his couch, and then makes a face at his closet. "How much nicer should I dress than I usually dress?"

"Like, one step up. Slightly newer clothes."

"Cool. I'll text you if I have doubts. I assume I'm getting my itinerary in the next hour?"

"Leaving tomorrow, and you even get your own hotel room. Don't say I don't treat you right."

"Never would." He exhales. "Every time something happens, I think _this is it_. But this is it, right?"

"First season pickup, yeah," she says. "And we only wanted thirteen episodes anyway, so--yeah This is it. We just need to make a good impression on staff and advertisers."

"Which you're going to coach me through."

"Haven't you done this before?"

"Not on this side. Actors they just expect to be cute and charming and talk about their characters. I'm the _showrunner_ , I don't know how to deal with that."

"Cute and charming is the most important thing. And you're great at that. You seriously don't have anything to worry about." She pauses. "But I'll get you the seat next to mine on the plane so we can talk through it."

He has to smile. "Cool. Thanks. How long are we gone?"

"All the details will be in the email. Don't worry."

"I have total faith."

"You should. And Bellamy?"

"Yeah?"

He can hear her smile. "This is it. We did it."

His own laugh is relieved. "We did it. See you tomorrow, Clarke."

*

Bellamy hasn't really done much at upfronts since he was on _Marauders_ , and back then, he was too overwhelmed by everything to think about it very hard. He doesn't have trouble spouting off talking points and enthusing about how happy he is to have a job.

As with everything else, it's so different when the show is his baby. And, as with everything else, he doesn't know what he'd do without Clarke. It's not that his instincts are bad; apparently they're great. He just needs someone to talk him through it, figure out a plan, and assure him that it's a good plan. 

And it feels like a great one, right until he goes to Clarke's hotel room so they can go over to the event together, and she opens the door and he discovers that he's in love with her.

It shouldn't be a surprise. He knows it shouldn't. Octavia asks about Clarke every time they're on the phone. All his costars have noticed. Even _he_ noticed, but--he didn't put it together right. He knew he liked her, and she was basically his best friend, and she was smart and beautiful and made him happy, but he's been busy, and he hadn't figured out what all of that meant.

He knew people would _think_ he was in love with her; he just hadn't thought about the fact that they might be right.

But she looks so fucking perfect, all dressed up, and when she lights up at the sight of him, so happy, and all he wants to do is duck his head down and press his mouth against hers.

Before an industry event. He has the worst timing in the history of the world.

"You look great," says Clarke, because she isn't having a crisis. "See, this is why I trust you to dress yourself. I had to have Monroe text me what she was planning to pack so she wouldn't fuck it up."

"Of course you did." He wets his lips. "You look amazing."

She looks down at herself, twirls her skirts a little. Clarke tends to be very casual in her appearance, jeans and t-shirts, hair loose around her shoulders. And now she's wearing a dress, with her hair up in a bun, and it's not better, but it's almost like seeing her for the first time. Except the first time he saw her, she was sixteen and he wasn't really paying much attention. She was just--some girl.

And now she's _Clarke_.

"Thanks," she says, giving him another smile. "Nervous?"

"Excited."

"Yeah?"

He smiles, and he thinks it comes out normal. "You know what you're doing and you let me tell you every thing I was worried about and talked me through it. So, yeah. Now I'm just excited. You know how much I love talking about our show."

He thought he knew how much he liked the way her face lit up with pride at the mention of the show, but he had no fucking clue. 

Honestly, he's excited for this just because he needs to be thinking about anything but her. At least if he's selling the show, he's not going to be thinking about her.

Except, of course, that they just have a panel at the upfronts, and then the rest of the time they're wandering around together, checking out other panels, schmoozing and networking and being basically joined at the hip. Which was what he wanted, up until this afternoon.

Now he wants to drag her off to make out somewhere, and that's an inconvenient way to feel. Even if he thought she felt the same, now wouldn't be the time for it.

Their panel is on the second day, so he's had a little time to settle in, at least. He's still shaken, but after a day of hanging out with Clarke and a night of fretting, he's come to accept that it was inevitable, and really it's his own fault for not noticing sooner. But he's been busy, and he's never been great at feelings.

Once he gets used to it, he'll be fine.

The two of them sit next to each other at the panel, Bellamy serving as the bridge between the cast and the creative team, and it's a new position for him. Clarke expects him to get the most questions, as the showrunner and one of the stars, and he's ready for that. Genuinely excited for it, even.

What he's not ready for is, of course, questions about Clarke.

The moderator is a pleasant woman who seems nice enough, and when she gives him a bright smile and says, "So, Bellamy, you and Clarke acted together on _Marauders_ , didn't you?" he believes that she's not trying to give him a heart attack.

It's such an obvious question. He doesn't know how he and Clarke didn't cover it. And it wouldn't even be hard to answer, if he wasn't going through a minor emotional crisis.

"Yeah, we did," he says.

"What made the two of decide to work together again after all these years?"

He glances at Clarke, gives her a smile. "Well, like I said, I've been a fan of the books for a while. Once I started seriously thinking about doing the show, I realized I didn't know anything about making a show from this side. Usually by the time I get involved, the script is done and everything's figured out. Like you said, Clarke and I were on _Marauders_ together back in the day, and I thought she could give me some pointers."

"But you've heard him talk about this project," Clarke cuts in, smiling. "I read the books, I met with him, and of course by the end of lunch I told him I was going to be the producer and I wasn't taking no for an answer."

"Obviously I was really upset about it," Bellamy says, deadpan. "But yeah, she refused to leave me alone, so--"

"It's so nice to see the two of you are still friends after all these years," says the moderator, and Bellamy chokes a little on the word.

"Yeah, it's been really fun," Clarke says, smooth. "Bellamy and Nate worked together on _Inbetween States_ a few years ago, and obviously Marcus and I are close, so--it's kind of like a family reunion. But a lot better than most of the family reunions I went to as a kid. Actually fun."

"I hope none of your relatives are in the audience," Bellamy teases, and she grins. "But, yeah, what Clarke said. She and I didn't get that much of a chance to work together back on _Marauders_ , same for me and Nate on _Inbetween States_. And Clarke and Marcus have never worked together professionally. So this has been a really amazing experience so far. Making friends of, you know. Distant relatives."

"He's really bad at friendship," Clarke says, patting his arm. "That means he likes us."

"Don't push it," he says, and she grins.

The conversation moves on, and he feels like he handled it pretty gracefully. He's always felt weird talking about her, because they weren't really friends before, and that's the story people are looking for, one where he and Clarke are BFFs. But this one is nice too. The stars aligned perfectly, and now they've reconnected and his life is awesome. He likes this story better anyway.

Other people must too, because two days after the upfronts, she texts him, _Apparently the internet thinks we're dating._

 **Me** : Based on what?

 **Clarke** : Upfronts  
Did you know I make you smile? Apparently that's not normal

 **Me** : I smile

 **Clarke** : Are you saying people are lying on the internet, Bellamy?  
They would never do that

 **Me** : Shit, my bad  
Why were you looking at this?  
Don't tell me it's your job

 **Clarke** : It IS my job  
I'm monitoring online buzz

 **Me** : You know now that we have an actual series order we're going to hire more producers, right?  
Ones who can tell me what your real job is?

 **Clarke** : I'm hiring the producers, so they'll be loyal to me  
My job is whatever I say it is

 **Me** : Fuck  
I didn't think that through  
So, is people thinking we're dating good internet buzz? Bad internet buzz?  
How should I feel about this?

 **Clarke** : Any buzz is good buzz  
People like seeing actors are still friendly with former costars, so that's good  
They seem to think we're cute

 **Me** : We're adorable  
I just remember fans being super pissed or weirdly overinvested when they thought I was dating Anne  
There was no in between

 **Clarke** : I think it's worse when you're both actors  
You two didn't ever date, right?

 **Me** : Jesus, did everyone think that?

 **Clarke** : Just curious  
I don't think I've ever heard about you dating anyone

 **Me** : No, nothing with me and Anne  
I don't date much, I guess  
I had a boyfriend for a while and he wasn't ready to be out and I was kind of quietly bisexual, so we didn't talk about it  
And then I dated a non-actress so I wanted to keep her out of the spotlight  
And then we broke up a couple years ago  
That's why my sister's worried about me dying alone

 **Clarke** : I guess it's good rumors about us dating won't interfere with your actual relationships

 **Me** : As far as I know, you're the only person I care about who trolls the internet looking for rumors about me  
So I wasn't worried either way  
What about you?  
Does your significant other have google alerts set up to monitor if you're supposed to be sleeping with other people?

 **Clarke** : I'm single too  
But I'm pretty sure some of them did, yeah

 **Me** : Healthy  
As long as it's not going to hurt the show I don't have to care, right?  
I assume it's going to keep happening

 **Clarke** : Yeah? 

He hesitates for a second, not sure, but--it's a casual conversation. It's a normal thing to say, probably.

And if she thinks he's flirting with her, it's not the worst thing.

 **Me** : I assume we're going to keep hanging out and you're going to keep making me smile

There's a pause from her too, but not a long one.

 **Clarke** : Yeah, I hope so

*

In the grand tradition of weird shows being made on the cheap, they're filming in Vancouver. Ordinarily, as the showrunner, Bellamy wouldn't have to _move_ ; he would't have to be on set every day or anything. Given how involved some writers he knows are in day-to-day stuff, he's not sure why they _don't_ relocate, but that's their business. He gets why people don't want to live in Canada. Not everyone only has like three friends.

And none of that actually matters, because he's also one of the show's main cast members, so he still has to live in Vancouver. Next season--if they get a next season--when he'll be guest-starring, he might not have to, but it's not like he minds that much, aside from seeing his sister and baby niece less.

And, of course, Clarke is still based in LA. Which doesn't mean they'll never see each other, but the distance makes him a little antsy, aware that it would take some effort to get to her. It's not a feeling he likes.

They're barely done with the first week of filming when she calls and says, "I want to be there for the Irene re-auditions, and I might as well check out the set too. What days are you filming?"

His smile must be ridiculous. They had someone booked for Irene already, but she had to drop out because of a prior commitment that suddenly got funded, and they're scrambling to get a new actress in before her debut in a couple weeks. "It should be Wednesday and Thursday that week, so I can do the auditions on Friday and Saturday."

"Cool, I'll fly down on Wednesday, leave on Sunday, so that's four nights in the hotel--"

"You know I got a guest room for you, right?" he asks, and nearly kicks himself.

There's a long pause. "For me?"

"And O and Lincoln if they come up, but I doubt they'll want to much with the baby. So, yeah, you can stay with me. I figured you're too much of a perfectionist to stay away all the time. It seems stupid to make you pay for a hotel."

"I'm awesome at my job, I'd get the studio to pay for the hotel." Another pause, and then, "But yeah. Staying with you seems a lot better. I'll text you my flight details and see you in two weeks?"

"I'll make sure the bed's made, yeah."

It's nice to have the knowledge of Clarke visiting, but he honestly figured he wouldn't have _time_ to miss her, and that's largely true, and not even for the reasons he assumed. It's not just that he's always busy, even if he kind of is. It's also that he and Clarke still talk as much as they ever did. It's not the same, of course; he misses being near her, the casual touches he didn't even think about much, when he had them, but it's still a lot of what he values from Clarke. Which is, well, _Clarke_. It's not just the two of them anymore, but they're still a team, and she still texts or calls daily, consults him on decisions and complains that her mother is passive-aggressively annoyed that Marcus is in Vancouver and taking it out on Clarke in the form of wanting to spend more time together.

( **Me** : Or maybe she just loves you and wants to spend more time with you

 **Clarke** : Realistic suggestions only, please)

So he's not really missing her, not like he thought he might, but he's still twitchy the whole day when she's coming up, nailing his takes but looking at his phone every five seconds when he's not on camera, even though Clarke is _on a plane_. She has wifi, so she's updating him on the bad movie she's watching, and getting closer and closer, but he is aware he's still ridiculous.

Miller is definitely laughing at him, but that's nothing new. Miller's always laughing at him. It's part of his character. Both on and off camera.

This is also going to be Clarke's first time on set in Vancouver, and he's excited for that too, eager for her to see everything, to meet the new staff. It feels wrong, for her to not be involved in everything. Which, of course, she is, but--remotely.

"When's she getting here?" Monty asks, as they're getting ready to go. He doesn't laugh at Bellamy as much as Miller does, but apparently he's still got his number. At least Marcus isn't here to witness it. 

"An hour. I'm meeting her for dinner."

"It must be tough, being so far away from her."

Miller's hiding a smile, and Bellamy feels heat creep up his neck. "It's, uh--not what you're thinking," he says. "She's my best friend. Of course I miss her, but--"

"Totally just business associates," Miller says, and Bellamy glares at him. "No romo."

"Shut up."

"Tell her we say hi. Assuming you don't jump her as soon as you see her."

"I'm going to tell her you're an asshole." He pauses. "But I'll tell her Monty says hi."

"She already knows I'm an asshole, but your call." He claps Bellamy's shoulder. "Use protection."

"Die in a fire."

The timing works out so that Bellamy just has his car go to the airport to get her, and she's already waiting when they arrive, sitting on a bench with her phone, bag by her feet. He takes a second to just look at her, and then he texts and points her out to the driver. Ordinarily he'd get out himself, but people sometimes take pictures at airports, and it freaks him out. He doesn't want to draw any more attention to Clarke than he has to.

And it's not like he has to wait long. She slides into the back seat and gives him a hug, brief, but warm and firm and reassuring. It _is_ stupid, how much he's missed her, but--it's so nice to see her, too.

"Hey," he says, letting her go with a final firm squeeze. "How was the flight?"

"Fine. How was shooting?"

"Good. We're doing one of the camping scenes tomorrow, so that should be fun to watch." He pauses, deliberate. "You know, none of the writers would tell me who decided the Magus should sleep shirtless. I think there was a pact to defend the guilty party."

"Plenty of people sleep shirtless. I sleep shirtless."

He doesn't want to let the thought derail him; he's pretty sure it wasn't supposed to. He's focused. He's not going to think about her being shirtless. Not even a little. "None of the other characters do," he points out, with some effort.

"Miller is shirtless for a while in the pilot."

"Not in a sexy way."

She pats his arm. "Sorry you're the hottest. We don't have much romance, so I had to provide some other sex appeal."

"Thanks, I think." He smiles. "It's going really well."

"I know, you've told me. But I'm glad. I've been checking out the dailies, everything looks really good. Monroe's amazing. You were right about having her dealing with the arranged marriage stuff. I think it's going to work really well for the bait and switch."

"Yeah, I've been coming in to watch her stuff whenever I have the time."

"You had better be sleeping, too."

"You're one to talk."

She grins. "I missed you too. I'm glad it's going well."

"Me too," he says. "What do you want to do for dinner?"

"Eat it on your couch?"

He has to smile. "You're the cheapest date of all time, you know that?"

"You still need to get me something _good_ ," she shoots back, but her eyes are closed, and she's smiling too. "So don't get too cocky."

"Never," he says, and gives her a squeeze around the shoulders. "Good to see you, Clarke."

She doesn't point out it's only been a couple weeks, for which he's grateful. "Good to see you too. Have you looked at the headshots for the new Irene yet? I've got some frontrunners."

He adores her. "Of course you do. You can tell me over dinner."

*

The first night is perfect. They talk shop over dinner, because they're incapable of not, but manage to remember to relax after, and Clarke falls asleep on him watching Netflix. He allows himself to finish the episode before he wakes her and sends her to bed, and he goes to sleep content in the knowledge that she's here, and they're doing a late shoot tomorrow, so he doesn't even have to be in that early.

It goes wrong when Clarke pads into his kitchen while he's making coffee, wearing a blue tank top with a yellow crown on the chest and a pair of matching plaid pajama pants. Her hair's in a loose bun, and he feels a sharp stab of longing to lift his arm for her, to have her tuck herself into his side and snuggle close.

Somehow, it hadn't occurred to him that he'd see her like this. He didn't really want to know what she looked like first thing in the morning.

Well, not unless she was waking up in his arms.

Fuck.

"Morning," he manages, voice a little scratchy. "Coffee in a few minutes."

Her face lights up. "Wait, you really wear glasses? I thought that was a James Potter thing."

He pushes them up, self-conscious. He forgets people don't know. "No, they're mine. I usually wear contacts, but if I put them in before coffee I'd probably lose an eye."

"Hey, don't rush on my account. I like them." Her eyes track up and down his body, a brief, quick look, and he wonders if she'd maybe be okay with it if he just shoved her up against the counter and kissed her until the coffee was done. "So, you really don't sleep shirtless, huh?"

"Neither do you," he shoots back.

"I figured I should make myself presentable for company."

"Oh, trust me, I think shirtless people are always presentable," he says, and she grins and bumps her hip against his. 

"Maybe tomorrow. What do you have for breakfast?"

She makes eggs, which are one of the few things she can actually make, and they have coffee and talk shop and he tries not to think about how much he wishes she wasn't leaving again in four days.

But it can be nice until then.

Clarke goes with him to set, even though he has hair and makeup and filming won't start for a while, and he wishes he could give her the tour, but he's busy, so she just wanders around on her own, watching scenes that don't involve him and getting more behind-the-scenes footage for the show's twitter account. Apparently buzz really is growing; she's unbelievably good at whatever she's decided her job is.

But he's great at his job too. He nails his scenes, and they spend the evening eating pizza and arguing about the script they're working on, and in the morning they go over to the auditions together.

Their third applicant, Raven Reyes, is so perfect that they don't even want to try other people, and they end up finishing early on Saturday and offering her the role, giving them the afternoon for the traditional video games (Bellamy) and heckling (Clarke) while they redo some of Irene's blocking to take pressure off of Raven's bad leg.

And then it's Sunday, and he has to let her go again.

Clarke doesn't look thrilled about the prospect either, he assumes because she doesn't trust them to take care of themselves. 

She confirms his theory when she says, "I think I'll be back week after next? I'll try to come every other week, just to check in."

"Control freak," he says, fond.

"It's my--"

"Job, I know. I'm better at day-to-day stuff than you anyway." He wets his lips. "But, yeah. You should come. My guest room is always here for you."

"I'll keep you posted." She grins. "If nothing else, I want to see Raven's first day."

"Yeah, that's gonna be awesome." He sees the car pull up outside, and his gut twists. "I can come to the airport. I don't mind."

She smiles. "Relax. It's a two-hour round trip to say goodbye to me at the terminal. On your day off. I'll be back in a couple weeks, I'm not going to war. Stay here."

"We could argue about the script."

"We can do that anyway." She leans up and kisses his cheek, and then gives him a quick hug. "I'll see you in two weeks, Bellamy."

"See you," he echoes, and leans his forehead on the door once she's gone, eyes closed. "You won't even have time to miss her," he reminds himself, and tries to make himself believe it.

*

It does become a fairly easy routine. Clarke comes every other week, as promised, hangs out on set for a few days to make sure everything's okay, and makes sure she's around for at least one of his days off, after the first time, so they can just hang out. Neither of them ever mentions it, but--it makes him feel a lot better. When she's not around for his off days, he has no trouble just working through them, editing and reediting scripts, figuring out lines to rerecord in ADR, and texting Miller about character motivations until Miller threatens to call Clarke, so it's good that she is around for half of them. Having a real break is nice, even if they still talk about the show more often than not.

And the show is _awesome_. They're airing in the mid-season, so he doesn't have outside opinions to back that up, but he thinks that if they find their audience, they're going to do great. It's a tight, interesting show with, admittedly, a weird setting, but in a post _Game of Thrones_ world, it seems like people must be willing to give fantasy TV a chance. And if they do, he thinks they'll be pretty hooked. He knows he's biased, but the pilot was way less pilot-y than most, and the season itself is tight and smart and they've got an amazing cast. It's not perfect, but it's solid, and even if they're a one-season wonder, he thinks fans will be really upset about their cancellation. They could totally be the next _Firefly_ , in terms of unjust cancellations.

He goes back to LA a lot less than Clarke comes up to Vancouver, largely because it's usually not worth it. He never has more than a day or two in a row where he doesn't need to be on set for one reason or another, so he's probably pretty unreasonably excited about his Christmas break. Thanksgiving was nice, but short enough that O and Lincoln just came to him with the baby, and only for two days. Nice, but--

But he's in California for two whole weeks for Christmas and New Year's, and he has no specific plans other than playing video games, playing with his niece as much as possible, and hanging out with Clarke. It's not going to be all he _does_ , of course, because two weeks of not working is beyond him, but--well, it sounds nice. He does need a break. It feels like he's been going almost non-stop since he first thought of the show, and everything is actually in good enough shape he _can_ relax a little. The finale script is done, and they're only filming for a couple more weeks after this.

And the show's coming out on January 15. So, really, this is the perfect time for a break. He could use some actual relaxation.

Clarke comes to pick him up at the airport, which is always vaguely disconcerting, just because he never remembers she can _drive_. The idea of Clarke in control of a vehicle always sounds both fake and terrifying, but aside from having more road rage than he thinks is normal, it always turns out okay. 

Plus, she's waiting for him at the terminal with a sign that says, _James Blake_ , so it's more than worth the slight worry that they'll get into a crash to have her there.

He wraps her up in a hug. "Hey. Merry early Christmas."

"You too. Welcome back to the states. Sorry about the president elect."

"Yeah, I might stay in Vancouver next season too. Or, you know, forever."

"Good plan, I might join you." She grins. "How'd the last day of filming go?"

"Really well. Your stepfather's dead."

"Awesome. I really can't wait for the last two episodes. I'm probably just going to follow you back to Vancouver so I can see the whole thing. You don't mind if I live in your guest room for the next three weeks, right?"

"Not if you chip in for groceries."

"Cool."

He grabs his bag off the carousel and follows her out to the parking lot. It's nice to be somewhere warm, and he takes a deep breath, air quality be damned. It's nice to be home, even if home is kind of a disaster. He still loves it here.

"Marcus said he and your mom were going to Peru for Christmas?" he offers.

"Yeah, that's where his mom's family is. They go most Christmases."

"So, what are you doing?"

"Christmas brunch with Wells and his family and fifty of their closest friends," she says, making a face. "Tradition."

"Wow. You sound psyched."

"I love Wells. I _don't_ always love his dad. He's kind of weird."

"Thelonius Jaha? Yeah, I've seen his red-carpet rants, I'm not really shocked he's weird. That's it?"

She glances over at him, wary. "What else am I supposed to be doing?"

"Whatever you want, I guess. But we do Christmas Eve stuff at my sister's, and Christmas dinner. Basically there's going to be stuff there for two straight days, and you're welcome to any of it. There's a baby, a dog, and two cats, which covers basically all your bases for cute things you might want to cuddle with."

"Bellamy--"

"What?"

"It's really not a big deal. I'm not upset I'm alone at Christmas."

"Yeah, neither am I," he says. "I would have felt weird asking you to come hang out with me for Christmas if your mom was here, so this works out really well for me."

That makes her laugh. "Yeah, that wouldn't have been weird at all. I never mind having alternate Christmas plans. The weird part is that I've never even met your sister or her family."

"If you're really worried about that, Christmas isn't for another week. You can come have dinner or something. But you're my best friend, they like you by default. O's been telling me I have to bring you over over Christmas, so you're stuck either way."

"Meeting them first would be nice." She pauses. "Wait, does this mean if I do this for you, you have to do something for me?"

"Uh, I didn't think it was going to be that bad to meet my sister. But sure, yeah. What do you want?"

"You could come to this brunch with me. In the Christmas spirit."

"I'll do that anyway. I want to see how gigantic the Jaha house is. But--seriously, O wants to meet you. You don't mind, right?"

"I don't mind. Just--I wasn't expecting it, I guess." She sounds oddly wistful, and it raises a lump in his throat. He didn't meant to make her feel weird or anything.

"Now who's bad at friendship?" he teases.

Like he hoped, she laughs, relaxing all at once. "Both of us. We're seriously the worst at it."

"Well, my sister and Lincoln aren't bad. So you should definitely come meet them."

"Yeah," she says, still smiling. "Just let me know when."

*

Two days after Bellamy gets home, Octavia and Lincoln are taking Kira to the park, so Bellamy convinces Clarke to tag along for that, in spite of her protests about how the sun is terrible and she's secretly allergic to grass.

"I'll pick you up at two," he says. "Okay?"

A pause, and then, "What if she doesn't like me?"

"Then it's irrational and I'll yell at her. No big deal. And Lincoln loves everyone and Kira's a baby, so even if O takes a while, you'll have them on your side. Don't worry about it, Clarke."

"Okay, fine. I'm holding you to yelling at her, but come get me."

"We're going to have fun."

"I'm holding you to that too," she mutters, but when he gets to her place she's already waiting outside, looking fairly excited.

"See? Sunlight," he says, once she's settled into shotgun. "It does wonders."

"I just remembered I'm going to see a dog."

He laughs. "So that's the draw, huh?"

"I'm not great with new people."

"Are you kidding? You're better with new people than anyone I've ever met."

"For _work_ , yeah. I suck at casual relationships."

"So just talk about the show. O loves hearing about the show. I read those books to her when she was a kid, so she's been trying to get me to give her spoilers. Show her some of your behind-the-scenes pictures and she'll love you forever." 

"Sorry I'm being weird," she says, soft. "Just--I know how important your sister is to you."

"Yeah," he agrees. "But you don't have anything to worry about."

And, of course, she doesn't. Octavia's perfectly friendly, effortlessly outgoing and great at making friends, and Lincoln's quieter, but just as welcoming. Clarke plays with the dog and is kind of scared of the baby, and she shows Octavia a few of her better shots of Bellamy hanging out on his phone in costume.

She thanks him for inviting her after, and he tells her to come for Christmas and they'll call it even.

Octavia summons him for lunch the next day, which he was also basically expecting.

"So, you're not dating her, huh?"

"No."

"You're an idiot."

"I never said I didn't _want_ to date her," he protests. "Just that I'm not. Which I'm not."

"Yeah, still an idiot. Come on, you need to marry that girl."

"I should probably date her first. There's an order you're supposed to do this in. I've seen it in movies."

"Just tell her you want to marry her for political reasons. It's thematic for the show."

"Yeah, that seems right."

"Seriously, Bell. I know you love this show, but that's not why your life is so great right now."

"Yeah, I figured that out." He closes his eyes, leans back. "I'll figure it out over hiatus, okay? When I'm less busy."

"There isn't a lot to figure out. She likes you. You like her. It's really, really simple."

"You think?"

"I really do. Just talk to her."

"I will," he promises.

And he does, of course. He talks to her all the time, even if it's not how his sister meant it. They spend most of the break together. She comes to Octavia's for Christmas Eve, and he goes to Thelonius Jaha's Christmas brunch and is generally terrified, and they both go to Monty and Jasper's New Year's party and wolf whistle when Miller kisses Monty at midnight.

She follows him back to Vancouver once the break is over, and it's two-and-a-half weeks of things he _could_ say to her, of nights watching TV on his couch and mornings together in his kitchen. But they've got so much going on, wrapping up the season and starting the actual premiere. His brain is too full to dedicate any of its power to figuring out how the hell to ask Clarke out. 

Once the season wraps, though, their lives shift again, and not how he wants them to. Clarke agreed to produce a project of Marcus's in exchange for his being on the show, and that's filming in Boston, so she's going to be gone for _two months_. The show is getting decent buzz, so websites want to interview him, and he gets asked to be on a podcast, and Clarke signs him up for Twitter without telling him and tells him he should live-tweet it, which she has to talk him through on skype during every episode.

Or, well, she probably could have stopped after the first, but, well. He likes skyping her during the episodes. He gets to see her face.

His agreement with himself is that he'll figure out what to tell her once she's back from Boston, and he lets himself off the hook thinking about it until then. He's not going to fly across the country for a tortured declaration of love; he's too practical for that. And it's a lot of pressure, too. He doesn't want Clarke thinking that if she doesn't feel the same way, their friendship is over, or anything like that. 

He'd just like to check in. To see if maybe she'd be interested.

Even though they haven't been picked up for a second season and aren't likely to be for months, he starts working on a new outline after a month of feeling antsy and at loose ends. He's actively terrible at not doing anything, and his brain is too full of this show to think of anything else.

So, yeah. As always, he's going to lean into it. It's what he's best at.

Clarke makes fun of him, but in the nice, Clarke way, where it's about thirty seconds of mockery and then she gets down to business and starts helping out. _The Queen of Attolia_ is definitely his favorite book in the series, but adapting it really is tricky, and he's glad to have all this time to do it, even if he's not sure it's ever going to go to air.

Octavia says he needs a hobby, which he really doesn't think is true. Hobbies are for people who aren't satisfied with their professional lives. But she does make him come babysit Kira more, which he doesn't mind at all. He's trying to soak in all the family time he missed, being in Vancouver.

A week before Clarke is supposed to be back, he lets himself start thinking about her, like he ever _stopped_ thinking about her. But--he does need to say something. And he still doesn't know what. Laying down his feelings just seems like--a lot. And asking her out seems like too little.

He's bad at this. He's _so_ bad at it. But he's got a week to figure something else.

He's working on the season outline, trying to figure out if Gen can lose his hand at the start of the first episode, or if they have to wait, when his doorbell rings.

 **Me** : Why is someone at my house?

 **Clarke** : I don't know why you think I'd know  
Are they in your house?  
Call the police if you're about to be stabbed

 **Me** : Doorbell  
I never get visitors

 **Clarke** : Dial 9-1-1 so you're ready to hit send if it's someone who wants to murder you

 **Me** : Thanks

 **Clarke** : Life hack

The doorbell goes again, and he opens it to see Clarke on the other side, grinning, and he goes slack-jawed. She wasn't supposed to be back for two more days. He was going to pick her up at the airport. They had a whole plan.

"Did you know I am actually the best producer in the world? Because I got us picked up for another season. Already. So any time you want to--"

Kissing her feels inevitable, because as soon as he does it, he realizes that was the only thing that was ever going to happen. He was never going to come up with a speech he liked enough to actually get over himself and deliver it. He was just, at some point, going to lose his cool and kiss her, and apparently now is it.

For a second, she's frozen, and then she smiles against his lips, and then her arms are coming up around him and she's pushing him inside, because at least one of them knows better than to make out on his front steps. The door closes behind her, and he pushes her up against it, kissing her wet and deep until she's whimpering and tugging his hair, pulling him closer, desperate.

He trails his mouth down to her jaw, and she lets out a shaky laugh. "If I knew I just had to get the show renewed for you to make a move, I would have worked harder on it."

"It was the leaving for two months," he says. "Fuck, I missed you."

This laugh is stronger, and she tilts her head so he can kiss her down her shoulder. "As long as it's not just enthusiasm for the second season. Maybe you do this to all your producers."

There's a thread of anxiety in her voice, just enough to make him pause, pull back and meet her eye. "I've been trying to figure out how to tell you how I feel for--way too long," he admits. "You getting back was my deadline. I was going to try to come up with a speech."

He can feel her sag with relief, right into his arms, wrapping herself around him and burying her face in his neck. He kisses her hair, rubs her back, murmurs soothing nonsense. As confessions go, it really wasn't the most elegant, but at least he got his point across.

"That was weird, right?" she asks. "I made it weird."

"You do keep telling me you suck at personal relationships. I should have believed you." He pulls back so he can kiss her again. "I don't mind establishing that I'm in love with you. I definitely am. I was planning to lead with that."

She laughs, drops her head onto his shoulder. "I had a crush on you when I was _sixteen_."

It's honestly the best thing he's ever heard. "Yeah?"

"You were hot! You were my go-to _yes, I'm definitely into guys_ guy for like five years. Not that I--I got over it. For a while. I wasn't weirdly pining or anything."

"Glad you stopped getting over it," he teases, and kisses her again, for good measure. "I kind of thought you were a spoiled brat when you were sixteen, but you proved me wrong pretty fast."

"Oh good." She worries her lip, and he resists the urge to kiss her again, since apparently she wants to say something else. Just--god, he can kiss her as much as he wants. He wants to do it so much more. "I didn't sign on just because you're hot. It was a fringe benefit. And I didn't know--" She laughs. "You're so much better than I thought. I liked you when we were kids, but--I didn't really fall for you until we started doing this."

"Cool. But honestly, I don't care if you were just being shallow when you signed on." He does kiss her now, grins when her fingers tighten in his hair and she opens her legs so he can get his thigh between them. "This worked out so fucking well for me."

"We got bumped up to sixteen episodes for the next season, by the way."

He bites her shoulder. "Clarke?"

"Yeah?"

"I never thought I'd say this, but shut up about the show."

Her grin is his favorite thing in the world, every time. "Yeah, you're right," she says, and pulls him down again. "It can wait."

*

The renewal isn't officially announced for another week, so he and Clarke have some time to regroup. Which mostly means a lot of sex, even more making out, and some discussion of the second season pacing, when they manage to drag themselves apart for long enough to work on it. He'd be concerned, but, honestly, they have plenty of time. 

He's still not convinced he needs a hobby, but having a girlfriend is pretty great. As alternatives to working go.

Another week after the announcement, they have their first meeting for the writing staff. They lost a couple people and are still working on filling the vacancies, but the core staff is solid, and he knows they're all as excited to be back and working as he is.

Okay, well, probably not quite as excited as he is. He recognizes he is excited on a level that is beyond normal.

Clarke's not a writer, but she's in the corner on her phone anyway, and she's definitely as excited as he is. So at least there's that. 

"Okay, welcome back. Season two. We've got sixteen episodes, which is great, because there's a lot to cover in this book. Raven's stepping up to series regular, we've got Miller working through some serious trauma, and I'm down to guest star, which means you're going to have to put up with me in person a lot more. So get pumped for that. But this one's my favorite, and I think it's going to be even better than the first season." He glances back at Clarke. "Anything to add?"

"Season two," she says, and gives him a bright smile. "This is it, Bellamy."

The best part is that it isn't, just as much as it is. They're going to do season two, and it's going to be amazing, but after that, they'll keep going. They'll have a third season, or they won't, and if they don't, he and Clarke can find a new project. He loves this, and he wants to keep doing it, and he has a partner who loves it just as much as he does, who wants what he wants.

He has _Clarke_ , and this is just the beginning.

"Yeah," he agrees. "This is it." He turns back to his writers, lets his smile out, bright and strong. Once they get going, he'll be too stressed to smile much. He should enjoy it while it lasts. "All right, guys. Let's get to work."


End file.
